


The Pumpkin Pie Life

by chucks_prophet



Series: Countdown to Halloween [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Artistic Castiel (Supernatural), Background Kevin Tran, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Neighbors, Cute, First Meetings, Fluff, Halloween, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Mild and Fluffy Sexual Humor Though, Neighbors, Pumpkin carving, Sexual Humor, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 20:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12540660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: Cas tilts his head in a way only dogs can do when presented with the word walk (Dean isn’t a dog person… or an any animal kind of person, but his little brother owns five Retrievers). “Why not?”“I can’t accept another man’s pumpkins,” says Dean, and, with a shot of courage that’s likely from the espresso he had not too long before, adds, “Not until after I buy him dinner, anyway.”Cas immediately flushes pink. “I… they were a dollar fifty each, it’s not a huge blow to my wallet.”





	The Pumpkin Pie Life

**Author's Note:**

> Unless another idea twacks me in the back of the head, this will likely be the last fic in this series. I'll definitely consider doing another one for Christmas - I'm already scheming up some cute ideas as I type.

“Crap.”

Just like any other morning, Dean steps out onto his front lawn. Only this time, it’s to be confronted by the mangled corpses of Jack—the lanterns, that is. All three of his pumpkins sitting on the porch sill are smashed in, as if someone heard the Headless Horseman was riding into town.

There was a time when Dean had a more youthful outlook on Halloween. Not only did his time on the force change that, but his move to the suburbs. You’d think he’d want to embrace the holiday more, seeing as the suburbs are rich with family-friendly spirit, but it honestly just makes him feel even more alone than his studio apartment. Everyone has their own families and children, some of whom are already talking grandchildren, while Dean’s approaching forty like the headlights on a semi-truck flying past its halfway mile marker. Domesticity isn’t in the books for him anymore.

“Hey, do you need help?”

Dean cranes his head to the person standing on the sidewalk outside his lawn. He’s around the same height as Dean, but weighs more with that bulky beige trenchcoat hanging off his shoulders. The tie around his neck matches his rich coral blue eyes. To his right is a Border Collie with a black body and a stark white and fluffed-out mane, like a lion’s. “I think I’m okay,” he says. “Unless you wanna finish off what’s left of ‘em. I’ve heard it’s cheaper than therapy.”

The man’s wide pink lips quirk up a little, “I’m sure it is. But no, I mean, I have some more pumpkins at my house that I wouldn’t mind donating.”

“You live around here?”

“Two doors down. You must be the new neighbor everyone’s talking about. My name’s Castiel.”

“Ah. Nice to meet you, and thanks Cas, that’s really nice of you, but I can’t.”

Cas tilts his head in a way only dogs can do when presented with the word walk (Dean isn’t a dog person… or an _any_ animal kind of person, but his little brother owns five Retrievers). “Why not?”

“I can’t accept another man’s pumpkins,” says Dean, and, with a shot of courage that’s likely from the espresso he had not too long before, adds, “Not until after I buy him dinner, anyway.”

Cas immediately flushes pink. “I… they were a dollar fifty each, it’s not a huge blow to my wallet.”

Dean walks down his driveway and remembers he’s in his robe when the tie starts to drag on the concrete. Grabbing it, he yanks both ends to secure it around his frame before lending out his hand. “Okay,” he says, lip twitching into a smile despite the fact that Cas probably just saw Dean’s _Scooby Doo_ boxers. “Thank you, really. I’m Dean,” he introduces. “Dean Winchester.”

Cas returns Dean’s gesture with a lingering but nonetheless firm grip. He’s definitely shaken hands with important people. “Nice to meet you, Dean. Shall we?”

“Uh, yeah…” Dean glances down and is that a ketchup stain on his robe? “I should probably get dressed first.”

Cas looks around and leans in like he’s telling Dean a secret, “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe.”

“What?”

“I had the hots for Daphne, too.”

Dean’s mouth drops before he shakes his head.

_Suburbs._

 

 

"Kevin Tran?? The scrawny Asian kid a couple blocks over?"

"That's the one."

"And why would he want to smash your pumpkins?"

Dean winces. He was ready to leave with his new pumpkins until he caught a glimpse at one of Cas’s Jack-o’-Lanterns on his own porch. It’s a cross surrounded by heavily detailed angel wings that wrap around the entire gourd, light through it from the morning sun for a natural angelic glow.

After seeing that, Dean knew he needed to enlist in Cas’s help, and miraculously, he’s filled with Halloween spirit again.

(That and Cas is kinda gorgeous.)

"I tried to..." Dean mumbles the rest, hoping Cas does that thing where he acts like he hears what Dean's saying, but really just nods to get out of the conversation.

Unfortunately, Cas isn't mean enough to move on from the topic (or gracious enough, depending who you ask): "What?"

Dean sighs, "I tried to shoot his mom."

Cas pauses with his carving instruments to look up at Dean with raised brows. “Um… okay.”

"I'm a cop," tells Dean, "which doesn't mean much nowadays, but for the record, I was trying to shoot at Fergus MacLeod."

"Wait, _the_ Fergus MacLeod?” Cas scoffs, “I thought I recognized your last name. You're the cop that caught him??”

"Not exactly. I mean, I helped apprehend him. You know, before the whole Tran incident. My brother's name was the one that was in the papers."

"Well, even so, you were on the case. That's pretty noteworthy."

"Yeah, but I did almost shoot someone's mom."

"Haven't we... all?" Cas laughs nervously upon seeing the bemused smile crossing Dean's face. "Sorry, my people skills are a little rusty. I'm a market research analyst; I like to study humans more than I like to interact with them."

"Sociology, huh? That's so... respectable."

"Yeah?" Cas asks with genuine hope that fills Dean with warmth. "Most people don't understand it."

"That's ironic, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's the study of people—in a broad sense,” Dean explains, watching as Cas adds the final touches to the Batcall. The way his tongue is poking out of his mouth and his eyes don’t leave one line in the pumpkin uncombed as his long, slender hands move across the fruit with careful precision. “Most people don't ever truly understand other people. Or try to, anyway."

Cas lifts his head to huff a laugh, "Huh, I can't say I've thought of it like that. Thanks." Dean doesn’t even realize they’re staring at each other until Cas clears his throat. "Oh, um... your pumpkins."

“Oh yeah,” Dean says as Cas sets the third and final pumpkin next to the other two. “Thanks. These are… amazing. I’m actually kinda happy my pumpkins were murdered.”

“Not a problem, really.” Cas emphasizes the “really” and smiles before adding, “It was nice to have company over. Most people in this neighborhood have families and kids and they’re nice and all, it’s just near impossible to connect with them, you know?”

Dean nods as a smile finds his lips. “Yeah, I do, actually.”

“Dean, did you…” Cas bites his lip, as if suppressing the words before they can even start to dance across his lips, then starts again: “Did you mean what you said about that date? And the pumpkins? I mean, not that I’m _asking_ you to… you know. Just the date part.”

It’s Dean’s turn to blush. He laughs upon seeing Cas shaking his head in regret. “Um… yeah. No. I mean, I did, but since we’re already at second base, I think it’s only proper of me now to ask you on one.”

“Well then… I’ll be happy to accept your request,” Cas says with a broad, gummy smile before his eyebrows lift again and his expression grows serious: “But I have to be upfront with you about something.”

Dean’s heart starts to thrash against his ribcage harder than any Halloween prank that could be pulled on him. “Yeah, anything.”

Cas leans in again like earlier, only this time, he remarks, “I actually really _hate_ pumpkin.”


End file.
